


Bitter Sweet Chocolate

by ElizaStormborn



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: AU - Adult Bughead, Anal Play, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Double Penetration, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Shameless Smut, Smut, with a touch of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:13:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28679454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizaStormborn/pseuds/ElizaStormborn
Summary: Betty wanted it all: the power, the sex, and the man.She was very cognizant of the fact that she shouldn’t want this, of how wrong it was to partake in this. But –Gods forgive her– she did it willingly.Her heart would lurch every time his name popped up on her screen. And every time, she would always respond the same: I’ll be there.Maybe that made her a glutton for punishment. She didn’t really care. It was like nothing she had ever felt before and she just kept on chasing the high. And every night after she returned home from his trailer, she felt a little closer to euphoria, a little more confident, but also so very frustrated.
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 13
Kudos: 48





	Bitter Sweet Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of NSFW moodboard below ... not the story though, that's definitely NSFW. 
> 
> ~ * ~
> 
> Happy Reading!

If Betty was being honest with herself, she would admit that this entire situation was her fault. She’d broken one of their cardinal rules during a scene and Jughead had been perfectly within his rights to punish her. He’d tossed it around before, but always in the context of a threat that he had never actually carry out. She had never thought he’d be so cruel to do it either. Maybe that’s what pushed her, but either way, knowing what she knew now, Betty would never have done it.

But there was another voice in her head, that just laughed and called her bluff: _maybe, knowing what you know, you would have done it earlier._

Betty knew that Jug’s chosen punishment was purposefully meant to be demeaning and demoralizing, but never before had she felt so in touch with reality. Every fibre of her being sung and vibrated with energy and everything for hours, even days after, was so much more vibrant as her senses came alive. Betty had come to the realization soon after the first night that she wanted more, wanted him, but mostly she relished the way it made her feel: powerful and sensual.

She was very cognizant of the fact that she shouldn’t want this, of how unnatural it was to partake in this behaviour that went against all other reason. But – _Gods forgive her_ – she did it willingly.

And every time Jughead’s name popped up on her screen her heart would lurch. It was always a mundane text, simply a location and a time, never anything more. He always ended it with a question mark though, it was his way of giving her an out, letting her decide if the game would continue. But like clockwork, she would always respond the same: _I’ll be there_.

Maybe that made her a glutton for punishment. Betty didn’t care. It was like nothing she had ever felt before and she just kept on chasing the high. Every night after she returned home from his trailer, she felt a little closer to euphoria, a little more confident, but also _so very_ _frustrated_. She was teetering so close to the edge Betty didn’t know how she hadn’t fallen over the precipice yet. It was a testament to how well Jughead understood her and could perfectly manipulate her body in ways that would make even the world’s best musicians jealous. Every stroke, every thought, every word. They were all perfectly tailored to her. But as the melody reached its final crescendo, he would pull back before the final note could be sung.

Ultimately, she knew that it was the thrill of the chase that kept her coming back for more.

☙❤︎❧☙❤︎❧☙❤︎❧

Startling at the sound of the chain lock on the front door slipping into place, Betty’s cheeks flush immediately as she catches sight of a familiar Sherpa jacket from the corner of her eye. Mortified, she quickly rises from where she had been kneeling on the floor working a stain out of the carpet. Bracing herself mentally as she turns to face Jughead fully, she flushes an even brighter shade of pink as his gaze sweeps over her.

“I’m home,” Jughead’s mouth twitches as he fights back a smirk. “Picked up some coffee, figured we could both use the energy boost.”

“Thanks,” Betty mutters, grinding her teeth to prevent herself from saying anything more. Busying her hands, she tugs on the hem of her skirt as if that will magically make its indecent length longer. At first glance, she had thought that the lingerie set laid out on the bed for her was surprisingly modest. But thirty minutes later, standing in front of the cracked bathroom mirror, Betty had quickly realized why he had chosen it as she took in the ensemble. The black skirt she wore clung tightly to her thighs and stopped just short of mid-thigh. That was the least of her worries as she tried not to dwell on the fact that it was sheer, exposing the delicate lace thong she wore underneath. Even she has to admit that the pièce de resistance was the matching bralette. It was beautiful and she couldn’t help but admire how the rose-shaped lace appliques accentuated the swell of her breasts.

Feeling Betty’s glare on his back, Jughead ignores her as he goes through his normal routine. He never really knew what the outcome of his texts would be, and each time he waited with bated breath until she responded. It had never been his intention to draw things out this long either, but after the first night of teasing it had become somewhat of a game between them, and neither one was outwardly prepared to back down. He figured that as long as they were both happy and willing, they could continue to play their parts in this dance. Besides, he supposedly had the easier part to play anyway.

He’d been a distracted mess lately, and everyone had noticed. Sweat Pea had commented on multiple occasions that Jughead just needed to ask Betty to _take care of him_. Only Jughead didn’t quite know how to tell his friend that it wasn’t quite him who was in need in of the TLC. Rather, his fumbling mess of a self was the fault of the girl next door and his runaway mind. It couldn’t be helped if his mind felt that it was more important to relive memories and hash out new ones than concern himself with what brand beer they should keep in stock. Besides, he was fairly certain that even saints could be lured away by the temptation that was Betty Cooper.

Everywhere he looked there was another reminder of her and their escapades. So much so, it had become a running joke between Betty and himself that they’d done Cheryl a favour by painting the town red for her.

Nowhere in Riverdale was safe.

Not the Wyrm, where he’d eaten her out on top of the bar until the only sound she made was his name. And now, shivers racked his spine and went straight to his cock every time his eyes caught sight of the nail marks she’d made in the cedar bar top.

Jughead’s skin prickled every time he rode down Elm street. His eyes automatically zeroing on the closed window of Betty’s childhood bedroom. He’d nearly crashed his bike on multiple occasions into Archie’s front porch as he was reminded of the first time Betty bent over on her childhood bed in front of him and waved her ass as the cherry red crystal base of a butt plug stared back at him. That night had given him a whole new set of things to be grateful for he ate Thanksgiving dinner at the Cooper’s dining table the next evening.

His motorcycle was probably the worst offender though – and was the setting of where the events of this whole _thing_ first began. He’d originally called it a date but with the stipulation that Betty was not to wear any panties. Bare underneath her pale blue sundress, Jughead had driven though Riverdale and would inconsistently switch up or down gears – purposely letting the revs build up and vibrate through the bike – until he felt she was close before switching to the appropriate gear.

He still remembered the way his nostrils flared and how his hold on a boneless Betty had faltered when he saw the evidence of just how affected she had been glinting off the black leather seat. That should have been the end of things, but when she suggested the next day that perhaps she hadn’t quite made things up to him fully, he couldn’t resist the temptation to see things out until the end.

Even now, with his pulse racing as his mind replayed hundreds of past moments spent with her in the trailer, his attention kept drifting back to the present. Leaning back against the kitchen counter, Jughead can’t help it as the corner of his mouth tugs upwards. The _trailer_ had never looked more inviting.

Jughead knew she would find new and creative ways to murder him if he ever told her the truth, but he had a bit of a kink for angry Betty. If he was being particularly self-reflexive, he knows his infatuation is the by-product of almost twenty years’ worth of evidence that proved Betty Cooper is, in fact, an enigma. He may not have had the words for it back then, but it had only taken days after meeting to realize that she was different – special. At five years old and a whopping three feet seven inches, Betty may as well have been a giant as she chased Reggie Mantle across Pickens Park in retaliation for stealing Jughead’s brand new beanie. He remembered when she finally brought his beanie back to him, and he was more taken in by the look of determination in her eyes as she promised that she would sew the hole Reggie had caused than by actually having his beanie back. He’d been in awe watching the little amber flames in her usually clear steel-blue eyes dance as she demanded Reggie apologize to him. And he was fairly certain that he’d fallen in love with her that day.

In all her forms she was beautiful to him but over the years he’d grown particularly fond of the nuances of an angry Betty. It was the little things. Like the way she bit her bottom lip whenever she was trying to refrain from saying exactly what she was thinking, or the soft rosy glow that spread over the bridge of her nose and across her cheeks like butterfly wings in mid-flight. It didn’t help when she did things like jut her hip out to the left – it was _always_ the left— or fold her arms over her chest. But he mostly loved that the fire in her eyes never dimmed after all this time.

It all made for a striking image, especially dressed as she is now, he has to concur: the sight he’d been greeted with as he had walked through the front door was amazing, but this view was even better.

Pulling a cup free from the cardboard tray, Jughead pulls a long sip of the drink and lets the bitterness of the coffee sit on his tongue in anticipation of the sweet treat he intended on having later.

Resting the cup back on the counter, he breaks the silence that had settled between the pair, “Well that was quite the welcome home. But I’d be a little more careful wandering around the trailer like that,” pausing, he motions to the open window behind Betty, “We wouldn’t want the neighbours to get the wrong impression of Southside High’s newest journalism teacher.”

Approaching her, Jughead watches with interest as she shifts, pressing her thighs closer together.

“Unless you wanted an audience?” he questions off-handily, watching her reaction closely. It’s subtle, but his suspicions are confirmed by the soft gasp that comes from Betty’s parted lips. He’s mindful to store that tidbit in his memory for future use.

Tracking his movements, Betty’s breath hitches when Jughead comes to a stand less than an arm’s length away.

Only as he soothes his thumb over her flaming cheek does her breathing even out. Visibly relaxing, Betty leans into his touch, letting her eyes drift closed as the scent of his aftershave wraps around her. It’s rich and spicy – it smells like home, she thinks.

His warm breath fans over her face, and Betty uses its lulling tempo to further slow her breathing. There’s a momentary lull as he cups her cheek. But as his thumb drags over her bottom lip, she can’t help herself as her tongue peeks out to wet the pad of this thumb. She only has a moment to smile at the tremor in his hand before the air around her is suddenly cold and devoid of the warmth that his presence had just created. Her eyes shoot open to stare at the spot Jughead had just held and her skin prickles with goosebumps from the chill that settles around her. From her peripheral vision, she spies his long shadow disappearing somewhere behind her, but she doesn’t dare turn around.

She listens intently as the blinds clack loudly behind her as they run along their track. The tension in her muscles eases some as the light in the trailer dims considerably – the only source of ambient light coming from the sunlight that makes its way through the cracked and broken blinds.

Betty shivers when she feels his hands running along her arm from behind. Chuckling silently at her reaction Jughead soothes away her goosebumps before pausing to brush her hair to one side. Nosing the exposed skin of her neck, his breath causes a new chill to run through her spine, “Relax Betty. I’m just not as big a fan of exhibitionism as you apparently are.”

Betty rolls her eyes at his words. “Don’t be-”

A silent scream works its way out of her mouth as Jughead delivers a sharp slap to her ass cheek.

“Be good,” he warns, running his hands once more down her arms before wrapping around her waist and pulling her flush against his chest.

“I didn’t-” Betty keens as his hand comes down on her ass again without warning.

“Didn’t what?” he grunts against her temple.

“Jug,” she whines. Squirming against him, she can still feel the stinging imprint of his hand on her ass.

“Betty,” Jughead mimics, his hold on her tightening marginally.

“Jug?”

“Yes?” he mumbles into the crook of her neck.

Pushing her hips back into him Betty gasps at the feeling of his growing erection against her sore ass. “I can feel you.”

Dragging his lips along her neck, he runs his left hand along her breastbone and over her throat. Cupping her jaw in his palm, he cranes her head back so that she can look up at him.

“Good,” Jughead smirks before leaning down to press a wet kiss to the corner of her mouth.

His hips buck into Betty’s warm palm as she forces her hand between them to cup his semi-hard length. Releasing his hold on her, Jughead pulls her hand from between them. He leaves another kiss in her palm before linking their fingers together.

“Patience Betty,” he husks in her ear.

Betty can already feel the growing pool of arousal gathering between the apex of her thighs. It is both maddening and frustrating to know that even though Jughead hadn’t touched her in any meaningful way – or, even been in the same room as her for very long – her body would betray her by having such a visceral reaction to his presence. It was beyond her comprehension to understand how he could accomplish so much, by doing so little.

Stepping around to the sofa, Jughead sits directly in front of Betty and with their hands still entwined he tugs her towards him. A tinge of hardness that surrounds the otherwise soft look in his eyes gives away his intentions. Despite this, she allows herself to be pulled by him, catching herself as she falls by bracing her hands on his shoulders. With her knees planted firmly on either side of his hips, Betty raises herself so that _she_ crowds him.

Taking advantage of her position, she leans forward, brushing a kiss to the exposed skin of Jughead’s collar before working her way along his jaw. His stubble tickles her as she draws her lips across his cheek. Pressing a final kiss to the corner of his mouth, Betty pulls her face back to smile down at him.

“How was your day?” she asks coyly before wrapping an arm around his neck and running her nails lightly through the hair at the base of his scalp. Her other hand falls from its place on his shoulder to trace random patterns over his shirt.

“There have been worse days,” Jughead shrugs playfully. There’s an electric firestorm playing on Betty’s skin as he smooths his hands over the back of her thigh. And the trails his fingers make along her skin leave a burning sensation in their wake. Biting hard on her bottom lip, she suffocates another moan as he firmly squeezes the flesh just under the swell of her ass. He doesn’t linger there though, and soon her entire body is on fire as his hands continues upwards. Fingering the ridges of her spine, Jughead teases, “Things seem to be looking up now though.”

“Is that so?” Betty quips, shifting her knees further apart, causing the material of her skirt to bunch at her waist and forces her to repress another whimper as his thigh presses hotly against her throbbing clit.

Smirking at him, Betty works his shirt over his head. It’s still clutched in her hand when her body is violently pulled into Jughead’s bare chest. And the little gasp she makes is immediately muted as his lips crush her own.

This isn’t the kiss of a man and woman in love. It was hungry and brash. Starved of each other, they let soft and supple be bygones to the hard-claiming press of his lips to hers.

Want, need, and desire fuels her cells as she stretches her body over his.

Parting her lips, Betty swipes her tongue against his bottom lip in invitation and Jughead doesn’t hesitate with his response. As with every kiss they’ve shared, he is just as meticulous with his explorations of her mouth as he was the first time.

Bitter coffee and sweet cherries. It shouldn’t work. But it’s Jughead and Betty, it somehow _just does._ And it was absolutely addicting.

She’s still reeling when he worries her bottom lip with his teeth lightly before letting go and moving downwards to kiss the side of her neck.

“Jug,” she finally exhales. Pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck, Betty drags Jughead back for another kiss as the arm he has wrapped around her waist simultaneously pulls her even further into him.

Only when Betty’s certain that they’re both delirious from a lack of oxygen does she pull back. Burying her face in the crook of his neck, Betty loses herself in the feeling of Jughead playing with the ends of her hair. It’s a jarring juxtaposition to the events of tonight but she can’t help but smile against his skin.

Raking his fingers through her loose curls, Jughead asks, “Do you want to stop?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“I miss this,” Betty automatically responds – she had never thought it, but now that she had said the words aloud, she realized the truth in the statement.

“Betty-,” he cautions.

Shifting back, Betty smiles softly as she uses her thumb to trace over his frown lines. “I miss it, but it’s not what I want right now.”

Gently, she coaxes Jughead to look at her. Her lips brush against his as she asks, “Okay?”

The hesitation she sees in his face is not a reflection of broken trust.

Rather, it’s one of the many ways Jughead unknowingly showed how much he prized her.

Cared for her.

Loved her.

And as long as they both were comfortable things would continue as they were.

“Okay.”

Just like that there is a palpable change in the air as the flames around them re-erupt brighter and hotter, burning everything in their wake.

Closing the gap to recapture her stolen kiss Jughead’s hand on her sternum stops her. There’s a silent question in her eyes, but a small almost imperceivable shake of the head is the only acknowledgement he gives.

Instead, following his gaze, Betty feels time move in slow motion as Jughead’s left hand cups her breast through the gauzy lace material of her bralette. She hisses in response as his thumb drags over her peaked nipple and she can’t stifle the moan that reverberates through her chest.

“Take it off,” Jughead instructs, rolling her nipple lightly between his thumb and forefinger.

Defiantly, Betty lets the little brat on her shoulder speak for her, “You do it.”

Holding her breath, she feels his hands disappear behind her. Unhooking the clasps, Jughead takes his time brushing the thin petal straps down her arms. Her body shudders under his lips as Jughead presses a soft kiss to each shoulder as it is laid bare.

Discarding the lace on the trailer’s floor, Betty moans only once before her breath is stolen by the feeling of his hands and lips on her breasts. Gasping as he nips along the swell of her left breast, she knows that by morning she’ll bare the tell-tale signs of his affection in the form of violet and red blotches. But in that moment, she can’t find it in herself to care.

Whimpering, she draws a ragged breath as she rocks her hips against Jughead’s clothed erection, providing her with just enough friction to relieve some of the tension in her clit. She’s incredibly aware as each pass causes another rush of fluid to soak her panties.

Working herself over him, her rhythm only falters as she loses herself in the sensation of his cock throbbing against her core.

Blindly reaching behind her, Betty massages the base of his cock through the material of his sweatpants. Slipping her hand further down, she smirks into the kiss as Jughead loses concentration and bites down a little too hard on her bottom lip.

Pulling away from her lips, Jughead audibly groans as she continues to fondle his balls. But he’s easily distracted by the creamy skin of her bare breasts rising with each inhalation.

Digging his fingers into Betty’s hips, Jughead can’t decide if he wants her to stop or keep going as the rocking of her hips over his cock slowly drives him mad. He wasn’t even in her, and – _fuck_ — the combination of heat and _her,_ has him on edge.

He knows she does it purposefully to provoke a response from him – despite any protest she may have otherwise. Taking in her hooded eyes and swollen lips as she gyrates above him, Jughead is reminded that the little vixen never made it easy for him. Just as he knows how to play each string of her body, Betty knows the tune to his.

Jughead would readily admit that Betty has thoroughly ruined him for any other woman.

It was a power-play between them. He hopes it never ends.

However, right now, Jughead wants to keep the crown a little longer.

Stilling her wandering hand, his teeth purposefully graze her nipple as he pulls away. His voice has dropped several octaves, and there’s a slight rasp when he speaks, “It’s not nice to tease.”

She shot him an incredulous look. Pulling her hand free from his grasp she shifts back on his thighs. “Says you.”

Emboldened by the look of feral hunger and neediness in his eyes she traces a finger over the skin just above his waistband.

“See Jug, I don’t tease,” Betty promises as her fingers slide under his band and her hand wraps around his cock. Drawing her hand along his cock in a series of slow strokes she lets her nails occasionally ghost along the underside of his shaft.

Swirling her thumb over the tip, she watches as Jughead’s pupils dilated fully.

“I can keep going,” she taunts, tilting her head minutely to the side. The innocent look on her face is in stark contrast to the smirk in her eyes. Pulling her hand abruptly away, she sucks her thumb into her mouth. Silently daring Jughead to say something – do something – Betty hungrily moans at the salty taste of precum. “You were saying something about teasing?”

Narrowing his eyes at her teasing tone, instead of answering Jughead acts on her silent dare as he skims his palm over the front of her black lace thong. Pulling the soaked lace aside, he listens to Betty’s breath hitch as he dipped a finger between her folds. Taking extra care, he uses her wetness to lubricate his finger as he caresses her nub in circular motions.

“More, please,” Betty begs, her knuckles turning white from her grip on the sofa’s headrest.

“Hold tight,” Jughead mumbles against her chest. Bracing her in his arms, he shifts, switching their positions. With her now seated on the sofa, he haphazardly throws a cushion from off the sofa onto the floor beneath him before kneeling between her open thighs.

“Come here.” Gently encouraging Betty to spread her knees further apart, his nostrils flare as her scent perfumes the air around him.

Covered in arousal, Betty’s inner thighs shone like a beacon guiding Jughead to the fountain’s source.

Feeling a strangled breath against her cunt, Betty can only just make out Jughead’s words over the blood thundering in her ears. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

“For fuck’s sake Jug, just rip it,” Betty pleads impatiently as he snaps the waistband teasingly against her hip.

Hesitating for a moment, Jughead runs his finger over the small beaded crown that was hand-sewn into the lace band on her left hip. But glancing back up to meet her eyes, he finds that the decision is already made for him.

“Fuck it,” he murmurs as white beads scatter across the floorboards.

For a moment Betty feels vindication in the fact that Jughead sounded as broken as she felt, but she’s never given the chance to wallow in her victory as his warm breath washes over her, further igniting her already smouldering skin. Unable to resist any longer, Jughead dipped his head and presses a kiss to the top of her mound before flattening his tongue and slowly running it over the exposed lips of her cunt.

He groans the instant his tastebuds are overwhelmed by her. His voice is almost reverent when he whispers, “You taste so good, Betts.”

Pulling Betty further down the sofa, he hooks her knees over his shoulders. Spreading her lips apart, Jughead works diligently to sample every last drop of the treat presented to him.

Her heels dig into his back as her thighs simultaneously tighten around him – as if he needed more encouragement to remain exactly where he is.

Flicking his tongue over her clit he can hear her cursing and moaning under her breath, but whatever she’s saying is lost on him.

There’s a thin sheen of sweat that coats them both and when the flickering sunlight catches them just right, it gives them an otherworldly glow.

“That’s it, Betty,” Jughead coaxes, dipping his tongue into her entrance twice more before replacing it with his index finger. Adding a second finger he watches as the pink flush on her chest expands, creeping up her neck and over her cheeks.

“Fuck…I…want…want-” she begs between pants, her eyes fluttering as he scissors his fingers with each thrust. Knotting her hand in his hair, Betty keens, holding Jughead in place as he suckles at her clit.

Taking his cue from the feeling of her thighs practically vibrating against his cheek Jughead slows his thrusts, and pulls his head back to look up at her – his lips glisten in the low light, “Hmmm…What do you want Betts?”

Swirling his thumb over her clit, her chest rises with rapid breaths. He holds her gaze as he grazes his teeth over the skin of her inner thigh.

“You…Me…More…I want more,” Betty exhales, untangling her hands from his hair to knead her breasts.

“Please,” Jughead reminds, pumping into her three more times before withdrawing. He leaves a wet comforting kiss to the inside of her thigh when she whines from the loss of his fingers.

Multitasking, he quickly stands, stripping off his joggers, he’s almost prepared to rip the drawer out of the end table in frustration when his fingers finally close around the small tinfoil square they kept stashed there. Sheathing himself with the condom, he languidly strokes his cock. He’s momentarily distracted by the fire that’s returned in Betty’s eyes as they trail slowly over him. But it’s only when she moans hungrily as her gaze falls to his cock does his tempo truly falter.

Only seconds later Jughead finds himself glowering when he realizes that one of her hands has disappeared between her closed thighs.

“Betty,” he cautions.

The fire burns a little brighter with each word, “Jug I just want you-.” Losing concentration Betty’s head lolls back, exposing the smooth column of her neck. Involuntarily she spreads her thighs further apart letting Jughead see exactly what her hand is doing. “I want you in me,” Betty finally cries out as she adds a third slender finger.

“Please,” she adds belatedly.

It was a sin for someone to look that beautiful in the moment. But for once in his life, Jughead was perfectly content being viewed as a sinner amongst a town supposedly filled with righteousness.

“Fuck.”

Standing between her parted legs, Jughead abandons his grip on his cock to ease her legs further apart. Not for the first time, he is more than glad that Betty continued her daily yoga routine even after quitting cheerleading.

Propping a knee on the sofa he aligns himself with her entrance. Pulling her hand away he takes the moment to engulf her wet fingers in his mouth, curling his tongue around each finger he lets his tastebuds become saturated in her essence once more.

Drawing her hand free, Betty grips onto Jughead’s wrist and using his momentum she pulls his upper body down towards her.

Steel-blue meets emerald.

“Please,” Betty shudders, pushing her hips into his, she can feel the head of his cock sinking ever so slightly into her.

For the briefest of moments, the air in the trailer is replaced with lead and her lungs fight against the pressure being placed on them. The edges of her vision blur as she’s suffocated.

And then suddenly Betty can breathe again as Jughead sinks fully into her.

She feels everything.

Her body is alive, and every sensation is as pungent as the next.

Jughead fills her so completely, as if he was carved out by whatever divine being purposely for her. Or she for him. Either way, it was perfect.

Teetering on the edge, Jughead pulls out until just the tip of his cock is still concealed within her, before pushing back in. His rhythm is slow. Too slow to get either one to the end.

However, it’s the ethereal flutter of her eyes that he enjoys in the moment. It’s why he’s draws out each stroke. In the midst of all of _this_ , they haven’t enjoyed the flavours of vanilla alone in a while. Always dipped or topped in something – it’s exciting, don’t get him wrong – but there’s almost something deeper to be had in the simple. It was a thought that echoed much of what Betty had said earlier – he missed this too.

But there’s always a time and place for that.

That time wasn’t now.

Wrapping his arms around Betty’s waist Jughead hugs her into his chest. He uses one arm to coax her legs to circle his waist before he stands tall and walks them over to the side of the sofa.

Placing Betty on her feet, he can’t resist kissing her fully again.

Catching her breath, Betty can’t help the bite of sarcasm that laces her voice as she asks, “Was there something so horribly wrong with the sofa that you felt warranted moving?”

Rolling his eyes Jughead pinches her hip, “You have a cute ass.”

“I know. But that doesn’t explain anything.”

Spinning her around to face away from him, he guides her hand to rest on the arm of the sofa. “Bend over.”

“Someone’s being a demanding shit today,” Betty snorts, her eyes full of mischief as she turns her head back to look at him.

“And you’re being a brat.”

Bracing her forearms on the armrest, her eyes focus on Jughead’s hand as he lazily strokes over himself.

“Fuck you,” she quips, but to even her own ears it sounds needier than she intends.

Pulling a long breath, Jughead braces a hand on her hip. Sliding his cock through her folds, he stops when the tip nudges at her entrance.

“I’d rather fuck you.” Seating himself fully in Betty, they both lose themselves in the sensations of her muscles contracting around him with each successive thrust.

Snapping his hips forward, Betty’s sharp whines echoes throughout the trailer. He waits until his name is an incoherent string of syllables to thread his fingers into her hair and pull her head back. Leaning forward he pressed his lips to the crown of her head.

“Look,” he instructs before tilting her head towards the blank television.

Pulling back to a stand, he meets her eyes through their reflection on the black screen of the television before continuing his brutal pace.

“Watch,” Jughead hisses, his hips slapping hard against her ass.

The corner of his moth quirks upwards when Betty’s cunt clenches around him and her breath hitches.

“More,” Betty pants.

With one hand tangled in her hair, Jughead reaches between her legs. Dragging his wet fingers through her slit, he circles his fingers roughly over her clit.

“Watch,” Jughead chants.

Gathering her arousal on his fingers Jughead draws his hand away from her clit. Trailing a wet finger over her right ass cheek, his attention is drawn to the pink rosebud winking up at him.

Taking his time, he lubricates the area around her rosebud before pressing the pad of his thumb against its opening. His heart is thrumming rapidly in his chest. It’s the first time they’ve broached both at once.

Looking back up at blank screen, Jughead sees Betty’s small nod.

“Please,” she whispers but the sound is instantly drowned out by the echo of dual moans bouncing off the walls of the trailer. It’s one of the most beautiful noises Jughead’s ever heard. That alone almost undoes him, but a well-timed squeeze to the base of his shaft is mercifully enough to waylay any other untimely reaction.

Collapsing onto the arm of the sofa, Betty fights to regain her senses. She can feel the muscles in her body quivering. And it takes her another moment to realize that the wetness she feels in her eyes are tears.

Frozen in place, Jughead’s mind can’t think coherently as Betty contracts around both his thumb and cock. He’s being pulled in and pushed out all at the same time and he can barely restrain himself from giving into both their desires.

For one minute the only noise in the trailer was the combined sound of their heavy breathing and the rattling of his broken A/C unit.

“Jug, please move. Do something,” Betty begs, turning her head awkwardly to look back at him.

Every nerve in her body is on fire, and even she doesn’t know what she’s begging for in the moment. And each time her muscles clench involuntarily around him it causes her breath to hitch. It’s too much and not enough all at the same time.

When she hears his heavy sigh, she clumsily reaches out for him, “Jug please no. No, I’m sorry. Please.”

Grasping air, Betty’s eyes screw shut as she tries to contain her tears.

For the umpteenth time in the last two weeks, he debates reneging on his earlier promise to himself. Seeing the tears gathering on her lashes almost breaks his resolve but finding a strength he didn’t know he possessed Jughead pulls out.

And immediately his skin begins to burn as if he had just walked through the gates of hell.

Ensuring that he doesn’t touch Betty more than necessary, Jughead gently guides her to sit on the sofa. Carefully he drapes the displaced afghan around her shoulders before wandering into the kitchen.

They both needed a moment to come down from the high. Everything was too raw and too sensitive. He’s stalling slightly as he rummages around in the kitchen but by the time it takes for him to bring over two bottles of water from the fridge, the pink flush of her skin has almost completely dissipated.

Placing the two bottles on the coffee table, Jughead wonders if Betty is aware of just how hard this is on him as it is on her. All he wanted was to watch her shatter around his cock, or on his tongue. Leaving her like this always left a bitter taste in his mouth. A taste he hadn’t been able to get rid of since they started this “punishment”. And from his perspective, it was beginning to feel more and more like he was on the losing end of this arrangement.

Waiting another moment Jughead allows Betty’s breathing to even out before pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. Gently brushing the matted hair away from her forehead, patiently, he sits on the edge of the coffee table, watching as the hazed glaze clears from her eyes. Only when her eyes are a clear steel-blue does he move again.

“Betts? Let’s take a long shower, then we can watch that movie you were talking about yesterday,” Jughead offers softly, moving to pick her up. But this time it’s Betty’s hand on his chest that stops him.

Her hand is already roaming downwards when he registers that her lips are moving and she’s saying something. “Wait. Let me help you.”

“Betty.” Her name falls from Jughead’s lips like she’s both the answer and the curse.

“Shhh…,” Betty soothes. With her hands on his hips, she nudges him to take a step back so she can kneel at his feet.

Looking up at him through her lashes, she smiles at the strangled noise Jughead makes as the warm flesh of her palm wraps around him. Her lips are a mere baby’s breath away from his cock, her breath washing over his head as she reassures him, “It’s okay Juggie.”

He’s too weak to stop her.

Four more strokes and Jughead is putty in her hands, his hips thrusting into her fist on their own volition. When she traces the vein on the underside of his cock with the tip of her tongue, it elicits a particularly violent thrust of his hips. His apology dies on his tongue when he saw the smirk on Betty’s face that she was too slow to hide.

Her eyes shine up at him as she presses a wet kiss to the head of his cock.

“Remember Jug, I want this too.”

Seeing her mirror image reflected in the blacks of his eyes Betty feels sinfully exposed. But even laid bare Betty doesn’t feel like the meek girl her mother used to control. Instead she feels like a woman.

Powerful.

Self-assured.

Brave.

Jughead has often told her that he thinks she’s a gift that’s been granted to him. Betty see’s it the other way around, where it’s she who has been granted the ultimate gift.

Naked, kneeling at Jughead’s feet she knows some may call it submission.

Betty calls it freedom.

And the moment she wrapped her lips around the head of his cock he’s gone.

☙❤︎❧☙❤︎❧☙❤︎❧

For the next two weeks, that was all it was. She went to whatever location anytime he texted, dressed in whatever was laid out for her, did any and every “task” he had scrawled out, and left afterwards feeling even more frustrated than the night before.

Betty would admit that she may have wanted this in the first place, but the entire process was driving her mad. She had replaced the batteries in her vibrator twice already. Almost a month after this had all started, Betty was determined to get the real thing before she needed to replace the batteries for the third time.

She had enjoyed the thrill of the chase. But know she was ready to enjoy the fall.

Maybe it was greedy, but Betty wanted it all: the power, the sex, and the man.

But most of all she just wanted the orgasm.

And if Jughead wasn’t going to do anything, then Betty would just have to force his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Well...can I come out of hiding now? I've sat with this story for months, originally I meant for it to be posted for [Riverdale Kink Week 2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/riverdalekinkweek) (go check it out if you haven't, there's a whole collection of amazing stories there), but that never happened. So in the spirit of New Year's resolutions, I'm pushing myself to do what I was too scared to do in October and I'm finally posting this. 
> 
> ~ * ~
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> As always, for more updates and to see what else I'm working on you can find me on [Tumblr](https://elizastormborn.tumblr.com).  
> You can also check out this story's dedicated page [here](https://elizastormborn.tumblr.com/BitterSweetChocolate) for some behind the scenes fun.
> 
> Wishing everyone a safe and happy 2021! ♥︎


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